Moonlight, A Novelization: Book 2
by North021884
Summary: Book Two of the Moonlight Trilogy continues the saga of our beloved vampires with the Crucis organization, their sights set squarely on Mick, Josef and those they love, focused on the eradication of all vampires. Will the humans around them be drawn into the vampires' shadowy world? And the most important question of all – will Mick and Beth's love survive?
1. Moonlight Book Two: Prologue

Book 1 of the Moonlight Novel Trilogy picked up where the beloved Moonlight TV series ended, with the reluctant vampire, Mick St. John, finally together with his love, Beth Turner, a woman he'd watched over since she was a child.

Aided by billionaire Josef Kostan, his best friend and the leader of the L.A. vampire community, Mick struggled to acclimate Beth to the vampire world and his way of life.

Their relationship was interrupted by the death of Sarah Whitley, Josef's long-ago love. Mick's investigation of the tragedy, assisted by New York vampires, Victoria Silver and Gabrielle Sinclair, led to suspicions about an organized effort to kill vampires – suspicions borne out by a near-fatal attack on Mick himself. Only Beth's love and quick action saved his life.

Who are these mysterious assassins?

Crucis.

An underground organization, led by the ruthless Christophe Durand and his sociopathic son, Adam, its sole purpose is to eradicate all vampires in the United States – and their sights are set squarely on Mick, Josef and those they love.

What will ultimately be the fallout? Will Detective Carl Davis uncover the existence of vampires? Will Jamie Sommers at last be able to fully reveal the truth to Carl and accomplish her mission? Will ADA Ben Talbot be drawn into the shadowy world of Crucis? Will the vampires discover the identity of their enemies before Crucis puts "Domino," their mysterious operation, into action? How will Beth respond as Mick continues to risk his life to find those who tried to kill him and threaten his community?

And the biggest question of all – will their love, and all who matter to them, survive?


	2. Moonlight Novel Book Two, Prologue

**We are finally ready to begin posting chapters for the 2nd novel in the Moonlight trilogy, which picks up the story shortly after the end of Book One. Apologies from the writing team for the lengthy delay since the conclusion of Book 1. Real life has been a bear. Your patience and support have been very gratifying to the five of us and we will do our best to ensure that this second book will live up to your expectations. As always, complete chapters will be published at capeand saber - and, also as always, please, please take a moment to review - either here or at capeandsaber. We look forward to your comments.**

Moonlight: A Novelization

Prologue

The three men lingered over their coffee, enjoying the atmosphere at the Four Seasons, one of Beverly Hills' more exclusive hotels. The July sun shone down on the trio with just enough warmth to be pleasant.

Edward Garfield leaned back in his chair and looked around approvingly at the orange trees and greenery surrounding the patio of the modern Italian restaurant. A unique, fire-water fountain was an eye-catching focal point for the outdoor area. "I've been curious about this place ever since they reopened after the remodeling. _Culina_ has been getting a lot of positive press and sometimes you are suspicious about that kind of thing. Money talks out here and it's easy to buy goodwill."

"That sounds a little cynical, Edward, especially given the great meal we just had." Christophe Durand smiled across the table as he fiddled with his cappuccino, his finicky nature demanding that it have just the right ratio of steamed milk to espresso. "Is he always like this?" he asked of the third man.

Ben Talbot nodded, his blue eyes warm as they trained on his surrogate father. "I think he was born cynical."

Garfield protested. "Hey, be involved in politics - especially California politics - as long as I have and see if it doesn't make you cynical."

"I'll go you one better." Christophe brought the coffee cup to his lips for a taste. Frowning, the big man snagged the bone china bowl holding chocolate shavings and dumped a spoonful into the hot liquid. "Try dealing with the federal government like I've had to over and over again when CHOIR is trying to help during a disaster. That'd make your California politicians seem white as the driven snow." He smacked his lips in satisfaction, the coffee finally to his liking.

"Oh, come on, you two," Ben protested. "I'm young and idealistic and you are ruining things for me with all this negativity!"

All three men laughed out loud.

Much to the dismay of the waitress, the luncheon had been going on for several hours now, as Edward Garfield and Christophe Durand caught up. It had been quite some time since they had seen one another face-to-face and they had spent the time talking about projects and mutual acquaintances. And Donna Garfield.

It seemed clear to Ben that Christophe had something of a crush on Edward's wife, a fact that appeared not to bother his mentor in the slightest. In fact, he seemed to revel in it, almost as if the idea that another man might covet his wife, made her more desirable in his eyes. Donna deserves better, Talbot caught himself thinking and shrugged to himself. Much as he loved them, the status of Edward and Donna Garfield's marriage was none of his affair.

With difficulty, the ADA refocused on the discussion at hand, and, when a lull came in the conversation, he cleared his throat to get the attention of the two older men.

"Mr. Durand, I-"

"Christophe, Ben. I mean it." Durand's voice was sharp, but he smiled to take any sting out of his tone.

"Alright...Christophe." Talbot leaned forward. "I just wanted to thank you again for the statements you made to the press on my behalf. I know that made a big difference in how things were perceived here - especially with the DA. Let me tell you, my boss was not happy."

Ben fiddled with the long-stemmed water glass in front of him. When he raised his eyes to Durand, it was with a hint of embarrassment. "I thought I might even lose my job over the whole thing."

"Well, if I ever needed a measure of how fucked up California politics are, you being fired would have done it. You were just doing your job and following up on a case involving the murder of innocent children!" Durand sputtered convincingly. "How the hell were you supposed to be responsible for some...terrorist...attack on border agents and cops two hours away? It's beyond me."

"Like I said," Garfield retorted, "California politics. It isn't really about catching the bad guys, Christophe. It's all about how you look."

"Well, you look mahvelous!" Durand quipped with a broad grin, prompting another round of laughter from the three as he did a passable imitation of Billy Crystal.

Edward Garfield had always held a fascination for the CHOIR leader. A product of Stanford's renowned law program, Garfield was a successful attorney, a power broker who sat at the governor's side during important policy discussions and effortlessly rubbed elbows with the rich and famous. And then, there was his wife. Donna was the type of woman Durand had always imagined he, himself, would marry - intelligent, warm, fun-loving. When all this was over and he'd rid the world of this scourge, he'd allow himself to look for that for himself. Right now, however...

"Edward has certainly done enough favors for me over the years," Christophe said, thinking of a recent key appointment of one of his hand-picked operatives. "Don't get me wrong, though, Ben. I would have been happy to do it under any circumstances. It's just that, being clear out on the East Coast, I might not have heard about it unless someone like your advocate here brought it to my attention."

Durand allowed himself to editorialize for effect. "Terrible business. Just awful. Especially with children involved. In my experience, children always suffer the most when there's a crime or disaster..." He sighed. "I'm sorry, I get carried away sometimes. So, I take it that the firestorm has died down now that you're a few weeks out..."

When Talbot nodded, he added casually, "Any leads?"

The younger man shook his head. "Not yet. There are a lot of unanswered questions, but I think once Carl Davis returns, we'll get the investigation back on track. He's been on leave."

"Still?" Edward asked skeptically.

"Well he asked for some extra time; apparently, it was pretty damn bad. He comes back next week, though."

Christophe leaned forward, putting both elbows on the table and tenting his fingers. "Ah, the detective fortunate enough to have a friend willing to sacrifice himself. A very fortunate man. Speaking of that, how is our hero, Mr. St. John? Still recovering, I take it?"

"So I gather. It's actually pretty remarkable that he's alive at all, given the extent of the injuries Carl described to me."

"So, have you seen Mr. St. John?" Durand's eyes gleamed with curiosity.

Talbot frowned, forced to admit that he had not yet seen Mick in the flesh. His excuses about giving the P.I. time to recover at home sounded lame, even to him.

"Ben, you need to go visit the guy." Garfield's forehead creased with concern. "It does not look good for you to stay away - gives the appearance that you don't care. I didn't ask Christophe to get involved to-"

"Dammit, I know, Edward!" Ben seethed, clenching his fist around his coffee cup. Then, seeing people at the next table turn in their direction, the ADA reined in his anger and continued in a quieter voice, "I'm sorry. I know how it looks. Since he's been home, Beth has been putting me off. Says he just isn't ready for visitors. What am I supposed to do? Want me to say, 'I don't care if he's still an invalid, I want to see him anyway so I look good'?"

He turned to their out-of-town guest. "Beth Turner is Mick St. John's girlfriend; she works for me as a civilian investigator."

"And, you don't have any influence over her? I must agree with Edward on this. The unfortunate incident was - what - three weeks ago? It does look bad that you have not yet visited him." Christophe answered mildly.

"Given how Carl described his injuries, it makes sense that he wouldn't be ready for visitors yet." Ben protested. "He's only been back in L.A. for about a week - up till then, he was at some private clinic that his buddy, Josef Kostan, arranged."

Garfield chimed in at the mention of the billionaire. "Josef Kostan is someone I want to know, Ben. I've tried to get to him before but it's like he's got a stone wall around him. I'm going to need for you to broker a meeting."

Talbot sighed. "I don't know him either, Edward - and, as you pointed out, I'm having enough trouble just getting to St. John."

Edward pushed. "Not yet, you don't know him. But now that you're going to have a relationship with St. John, you will. Make sure of it. Then we can get the intro we need."

Ben couldn't help thinking that, after all that had happened, it was unlikely that Mick would want to have anything to do with him. And as for introducing him to Josef Kostan... _Not too frigging likely._ He kept that council to himself, however.

There was silence around the table as their waitress approached the table.

"Can I get you gentlemen anything else?" the young woman asked with a smile.

"Just a check, thanks." Ben looked at the two older men, who nodded in acquiescence.

After an awkward silence, Durand cleared his throat. "Well, delightful as this has been, gentlemen, I have to get on with the business at hand."

"You never said what you were here for, Christophe. If I can help in any way..." Garfield paused. When his friend was not forthcoming with information, he finished awkwardly, "Of course, it's none of my business."

_No, it's not_, Durand thought. It was driving Edward crazy to not be involved in his business and they both knew it. He allowed himself a tiny smile. If Garfield knew what his business **really** was, well... _he'd shit himself_.

"It's personal this time, my friend. But, thank you for your concern. And, speaking of personal, I have a favor to ask of you, Ben. Two, actually."

The ADA bent forward again, squinting as the afternoon sun hit his face. He reached for the Ray Bans he had tossed on the table when he sat down, but Durand put his hand on top of the younger man's. "I like to see a man's eyes when I ask him for something. Do you mind?" The Crucis leader carefully moved the expensive sunglasses to the side.

"Of course, Christophe." Ben leaned back to take advantage of the shade and crossed his arms. He knew a power play when he saw one. But why is he bothering? "I owe you a lot. Just tell me what you need. Got a kid with a speeding ticket?" He smiled at his own feeble joke.

"No," Durand snorted. "But I do have a colleague who needs a job. A former colleague, actually," he amended. " Jen is an amazing woman. She was a senior director with CHOIR. Worked her way up in the organization through sheer talent, dedication, and hard work. Without the benefit of a college degree."

Ben raised his eyebrows questioningly. "And she needs a lowly admin job in an ADA's office? Why wouldn't she just stay with your organization? I-"

Christophe raised one large hand. "I'm sorry, Ben. I wasn't being very clear. Jen didn't have a degree when she came to work for me, but she went to school - while working full-time - and finished her law degree. I honestly have no idea how she did it, but the overachiever was a straight 'A' student. Passed her bar exam on the first try, too." This last was a subtle dig at Talbot. When looking into the ADA's past, Durand had discovered that Ben had had to retake his bar exam. He didn't intend to let it be known that he was aware of that fact - but that didn't keep him from having some fun at the attorney's expense.

Garfield was under no such constraints.

"There you go, Ben. Better than you!"

Talbot glared at his mentor, then decided to ignore him. Turning back to their guest, he said, "So, you are looking for a spot for her on the DA's staff?"

"Preferably with you," Durand responded. "She's been such a tireless worker, I owe her a lot. It would mean a great deal to me to know that she's in good hands." _Where she can keep an eye on you...and Beth Turner._ "And," he added, "I can assure you that she would be a tremendous addition to your team or I wouldn't ask this of you."

"Surely this is something you can do for Christophe," Edward chimed in.

"Absolutely." Talbot's blue eyes were locked on Durand's. "I'd be happy to take care of this for you. Feel free to give her my contact information. I just had a person leave, so you would be doing me a favor - I hate going through the interviewing process to find someone. It's time-consuming and a real headache."

"Good!" Durand moved Talbot's sunglasses back to the center of the table with a smile and settled back in his own chair. "Now-"

"Forgive me," Ben interrupted smoothly. "I do just have one more question for you."

"Oh, for god's sake, Ben!" Edward fumed.

"No, no, Edward." Durand waved his arm in the direction of the other man, silencing his protest. "Ben is right to get all his questions answered now. I'd want to know all I could about someone I was bringing on to my team if the situation were reversed." He smiled disarmingly at Talbot. "What can I answer for you? I want you to feel comfortable with this."

The ADA picked his words with care. "I don't mean for this to be disrespectful, but if she is so terrific...why isn't she staying with CHOIR?"

"That's exactly what I'd be asking in your shoes. A very legitimate question, so please don't feel badly about asking it. I actually fully expect that Jen will be back with CHOIR again in a few years. She knows she has an open invitation to work for me - whether it's a paid job or volunteer work. Sadly, however, she has elderly parents in the L.A. area that are in need of her assistance. I don't have much of an operation here in California at present - which is one of the reasons I'm out here." He glanced at the two men, and then looked down, skillfully playing their sympathies. "I admire her willingness to sacrifice her career aspirations for the time being in order to come to their aid."

"I'm sorry, Christophe. I didn't know." _And you made me feel like an ass for questioning your motives._

"How could you? It's a very personal - and selfless - reason for changing jobs. I can say with some pride that such self-sacrifice is a hallmark of CHOIR employees." Durand paused, transfixed by the sight of a hummingbird hovering and darting among the red hibiscus along the edge of the patio. "I ask you, is there a more beautiful sight than that of one of God's most mystical and beautiful creatures?"

Seeing the quizzical look on his companions' faces, Christophe cleared his throat, feigning embarrassment. "I'm sorry, I tend to wax philosophical at times. I blame it on my seminary training."

"I didn't know you went to the seminary, Christophe!" Edward exclaimed. "And here I thought I knew everything about you! If I wanted to be snide, I could say that explains a lot." He threw back his head and laughed, thinking of the evenings when Durand had refused alcohol - and his offers to procure women for them both. _No wonder!_

The taller man smiled faintly. "Yes, it does, doesn't it. I don't talk about it often. I find that it tends to cause people to look at me differently. There may be vices I opt not to participate in, but I'm by no means a saint." The look on his face indicated that this was a topic on which he would not elaborate. He turned back to Talbot. "Now, if you are comfortable with Jen, I'll send her resume and contact information to you, Ben."

"Please do. I would be happy to give her a job," the ADA responded. "You mentioned something else..."

"Yes, thank you." Christophe leaned forward, his gaze suddenly intense. "I'd like to have the opportunity to meet Mr. St. John. Anyone who would make that kind of sacrifice...well, I just find him fascinating and I'd like to be able to look him in the eye. Can you make that happen?"

Ben frowned. "I'll- I'll do what I can, Christophe. As we were just discussing, I've had difficulty getting to him myself, but I'll push Beth a little harder. How long are you in town?"

"Just until mid-week. I have to be on my way back to the East Coast by Thursday morning. Can we get it set up for early in the week?"

"I'll do my best."

"Make it happen, Ben," Edward interjected. "You owe Christophe that."

_Fuck you!_ The words blazed in Ben's mind. He was immediately ashamed of the thought and tamped down his anger. "I will. I'll set it up."

"Thank you, Ben." Christophe's eyes bored into Talbot's.

_Why do I feel as if he knows what's going on in my head_, the younger man thought uneasily. He began to wonder if perhaps being beholden to Christophe Durand was not in his best interests. A line from an old movie flitted, unbidden, through his head...

_Have you ever danced with the devil in the pale moonlight?_

_**This is the prologue to Book Two in its entirety. We will begin a monthly publishing schedule of chapters, beginning on Halloween. As with Book One, only a brief segment of each chapter will be published here, due to chapter length and the embedding of music and video. We hope you'll head over the capeandsaber for complete chapters and Moonlight companionship. See you soon!**_

_**North, Brat, Treezacarr, Margroks and CASilver2**_


	3. Chapter 1, Everything Changes

**As with Book 1, this is a ****partial ****posting only, due to chapter length. The ****complete ****chapter can be viewed at capeandsaber (.com) with embedded music. No membership is required to view or download the chapters at that site, although (free) membership is required to access the always-open chat room or leave a review. Reviews and comments are****greatly****appreciated, either here or at capeandsaber.**

**C1**

**Everything Changes **

Beth Turner sat at her desk, chin propped on one hand as her blue eyes studied the clock, her forehead creased in a frown. Two o'clock? How could it **possibly **be only two o'clock!?

With a sigh, she turned back to the computer screen in front of her, irritably flipping her long blond hair back from her face as she scanned yet another incomplete report from a detective who appeared not to give a crap. _If they don't want to be doing this job, why don't they go flip burgers or something_, she thought peevishly.

As the only civilian investigator in ADA Ben Talbot's office, the petite young woman was used to being out in the L.A. community, interviewing people, checking crime scenes, chasing down leads...

Not this week, though.

Ever since her return from the emergency leave she'd taken when Mick had been shot, Beth had been chained - unhappily - to this desk. "Every friggin' minute," she muttered aloud, then shot a glance around her cubicle to make sure that no one had overheard her talking to herself. Again.

Beth couldn't prove it, but she felt certain that her boss was punishing her for having been unreachable for over two weeks. Ben Talbot had been acquainted with her since her days as an online reporter for BuzzWire, a web-based news and tabloid service. He knew how much she abhorred being tied to a desk. It just wasn't in her high-energy, insanely curious nature.

Her relationship with her boss had been strained ever since she'd returned to work; if she were being completely honest with herself, however, much of that tension came from her. Why had she let Josef talk her into coming back to work here instead of quitting? She sighed. _Because he was right._

Kostan had appealed to her sense of outrage over Talbot's role in Mick's ill-fated trip to San Diego. He'd convinced her that someone needed to be a mole in the ADA's office and keep an eye on what was happening, in case there was something going on there that could spell more trouble for vampires.

Beth had agreed because she had not been able to shake the feeling that Talbot had somehow had something to do with the near-fatal ambush of Mick St. John and Carl Davis in the San Ysidro Desert. To be honest, however, she had no proof, nothing concrete on which to base this theory. Talbot's only apparent connection to the near-tragedy had been that he had been the one who sent the two men on the fact-finding trip to San Diego. Still...

The bottom line was, she didn't trust Talbot - which meant that she needed to be in the ADA's office to help protect Mick, Josef and their friends.

The young woman had hesitantly mentioned her misgivings to Detective Davis, when he had called her to arrange a time to visit the still-recovering St. John. Carl had heard her out, then tried to dissuade her.

"Look, Beth, there is certainly no love lost between Talbot and me. I damn near punched his lights out the night Mick was-" The detective had paused, the nightmare images of that terrible evening still disturbing to him even then, weeks later. There had been a long silence before he was able to compose himself enough to finish awkwardly, "Anyway, that night..."

When Beth remained silent, he had continued, "Talbot was as shocked as any of us over what happened - and as puzzled about why. He may be a jerk and a dickhead, but he's not a murderer." He had snorted, then added, "Let me amend that. He** is **a jerk and a dickhead - but not a murderer."

They had both laughed.

Davis had reiterated over and over that Mick had saved him from certain death. "If I thought for an instant that Ben had anything to do with what happened, you'd have to pull me off him - **after **I pounded him to a bloody pulp! I just think Mick and I were in a really bad place at the worst possible time. And I owe him my life."

Beth couldn't help wondering, _What if you knew he was a vampire? Would you feel the same then? _

That was unfair to Carl, of course. No one could possibly be prepared for the idea that there really **were** such things as vampires. She wasn't proud of how she, herself, had handled the revelation when she'd walked in on Mick, sick and hurt from being hit with silver buckshot. _While he was rescuing your friend, Julia_. That memory still filled her with guilt.

_"Please don't look at me."_

Beth still remembered how horrified and frightened he'd sounded when she'd barged in on him in his penthouse, his pain-wracked body huddled over bags of blood. The look of anguish - and shame - on his face that night was etched into her memory forever.

At that stage in their relationship, she had had no idea that he was the man who had saved her as a child when she was kidnapped, but he'd already rescued her from a psycho graduate student hell-bent on killing her to protect his mentor.

Yet, when she'd seen him - the eyes, the fangs, the blood - she'd asked him that terrible question, the one that still haunted her.

_"What are you?"_

Not "Who are you?" or "What's wrong with you?", but "**What **are you?" as if he were, truly, the monster she later learned he believed himself to be.

His answer had been simple - yet unbelievable. "_I'm a vampire."_

And how had she repaid her rescuer when his secret was uncovered? She'd turned tail and run, that's how. As soon as the words were out of his mouth, she'd panicked and fled, backing out the wide-open front door without saying anything, leaving the injured man behind to cope as best he could.

True, she had gone back later and confronted him - and her fears. But, it had taken days... and several sleepless nights. Looking back on it and knowing what she knew now about vampires - but, more importantly, about **Mick **and the kind of man he was - it was one of the most shameful moments of her life.

No, the detective could not be faulted for being unprepared for the idea - and reality - of vampires.

With a start, Beth realized that a half-hour had flown by while she was deep in thought. She wanted to leave the office and this interminable work week behind her, and spend a quiet weekend with Mick. _Not too quiet, you get to have sex this weekend! _She blushed at the thought and glanced around quickly, as if afraid that someone in the office might have somehow heard what she was thinking.

Well, thank god Talbot had been gone at some extended networking lunch for the past several hours - at least that meant no new scut work had been added to her in-box.

Mentally shaking herself, she turned back to the task at hand. _No more wool-gathering._ The sooner her work was done, the sooner this interminable Friday would be over. _And, tomorrow night... _

Her lips curved into a smile as she contemplated the weekend ahead, a weekend with **all **of Mick's restrictions lifted. Yes, this Friday couldn't end soon enough...

* * *

Mick St. John pushed himself away from the computer with a frown, leaning his tall frame back until the swivel chair he was sitting in groaned alarmingly. Hands braced behind his head, he stared up at the ceiling for a long moment, as if the answer he sought might be written there.

The forced isolation and inactivity was wearing on him, making him jumpy and irritable. He longed to be back in his normal routine - if drinking blood and sleeping in a freezer could ever be called normal - but he didn't need Josef's continual, irritating lectures to know that he had to continue to play the role of a convalescing human.

The injuries he'd sustained in the ambush in the desert, when he jumped in front of the bullets meant for Carl Davis had damn near killed him, despite being a vampire. A human would have had a long period of recovery from such horrendous injuries, perhaps many months. There was no way he could lie low for that long, but at least a few weeks of playing the invalid was necessary to protect his identity.

In truth, for the first few days, it had been a welcome excuse to spend the majority of his time in the freezer. The hypersensitivity to the sun that he'd experienced since he was shot had been unexplained, painful and worrisome - all reasons for him to keep it from Beth and Josef. He didn't want Beth worrying any more than she already was, and he **certainly **didn't want to give Kostan yet another reason to lecture him.

Over the past two days, however, he had finally noticed a difference. While he was still definitely more sensitive to the sun's rays, exposure was no longer as acutely painful as it had been, and each day saw small, steady improvement.

Enough improvement to make him antsy.

Intellectually, the restless vampire understood the need to continue to act the part of a slowly-recovering human - but adhering to the plan was another story. The only thing that made it palatable was the time he'd been able to spend with Beth. Even so, if he weren't allowed out soon... _I may rip somebody's head off!_

Reaching a decision, he straightened in his chair and bounced lithely to his feet. Pulling his phone out of his pocket, Mick punched a number and listened for the ring, beginning to pace as he waited. When a sleepy voice answered, he couldn't help smiling.

"Did I get you out of bed, Miss Sinclair?"

"Fuck you, you** know **you did! What part of Eastern Time Zone do you West Coast vampires not get?!" The tiny Asian woman on the other end of the line retorted witheringly.

"Geez, I'm sorry! Did you have a late night or something?!"

"As if I'd tell **you**!" she scoffed.

"Well, I could hazard a guess, but that'd probably end up embarrassing both of us."

Gabrielle Sinclair snorted.

Cranky as she was, it was hard for her to stay mad at her West Coast counterpart for long. Since the day they had met in New York, when Mick had arrived with Josef Kostan to investigate the mysterious death of Sarah Whitley, she'd felt an unexplained but immediate connection to him. They quickly fell into a comfortable relationship and she thought of him as the brother she'd never had.

_Except when his sheet fell off in the freezer room in Temecula and you saw him naked. You didn't think of him as a brother __**then**__, Gabby._

She shook off the thought. Mick had a very real, very human, girlfriend - one he was crazy about. And, she had to admit to herself, she **liked **Beth Turner. A lot. The young woman was, by all signs, very good for Mick - and, there was no question in Gabby's mind that Beth had saved Mick's life in Temecula when she'd unhesitatingly sliced her wrist open so he could drink from her.

With a sigh, Gabby came back to the conversation at hand and started again, this time in a milder tone. "You have five minutes before I climb back in my freezer, St. John. And, if you were anyone else, you wouldn't get** that**long. What do you need?"

_What I __**need **__and what I __**want **__are two different things... _

_**There's a lot more ahead. For the **__**complete **__**Chapter 1, Everything Changes, of Book 2 of the Moonlight trilogy, along with associated pictures and music that the FF system is not able to accommodate, go to:**_

capeandsaber (.com) / ?sid=43&chapter=4

_**Note that this is not a live link due to the need to insert ( ) Remove the ( ) and copy/paste this in your URL line to obtain the link. For those of you Moonlight fans from other countries, capeandsaber has translation capabilities for 58 different languages**_

_**Renovations are almost complete to C&S, but there are a few functions that may not be accessible right now, but we hope you'll poke around the site if you aren't familiar with it. Stop by the always-open chat room and get acquainted! As always, reviews are very much appreciated, either here or at capeandsaber. See you soon!**_

_**North, Brat, treezecarr, margroks, and CASilver2**_


	4. Chapter 2: Juxtaposition

**As with Book 1, this is a****partial****posting only, due to chapter length. There is much more to read and the****complete****chapter can be viewed at capeandsaber (.com) with embedded music. No membership is required to view or download the chapters at that site, although (free) membership is required to access the always-open chat room or leave a review. Reviews and comments are****greatly****appreciated, either here or at capeandsaber.**

**Chapter 2**

**Juxtaposition**

**INTRO: "Conspiracy" by Paramore**

"Jamie... slow... slow down! Now, start again... what happened with Talbot?!"

"Carl, he's here!"

"Who's there? Ben? He's **supposed** to be there - you aren't making any sense!" Carl Davis was filled with concern. Jamie Sommers may be enigmatic, even evasive, but she was never irrational.

The frantic young woman slumped down on her chair, hiding behind the half wall of her cubicle, cursing the fact that she didn't have an office. Someplace with a door. Someplace safe.

Part of her - the rational part - told her that there was no reason for Christophe Durand to have had any personal knowledge of her from her relatively brief time working for CHOIR. She had been an extremely low rung on that particular ladder. No, the rational part said she hadn't needed to call Davis, fearful for her life.

Still, her departure **had** been abrupt and who knew what might have caught his attention - and she'd seen enough to convince her that Durand was ruthless. Even...

"Psycho. The guy's psycho, Carl," she whispered into her phone.

"WHO? TALBOT?" The detective shouted in his frustration. He couldn't tell if Jamie was in real danger or... _Or __**what**__? What the hell is going on with her?_

She choked down the near-hysterical laughter that threatened to bubble out. "No!" she hissed. "Durand! And he's here!" Peeking around the corner of her cubicle wall, she saw the Crucis leader now deep in conversation with Ben Talbot. Beth was nowhere to be seen. _What did he do with Beth_, she thought for a wild moment before getting herself under control.

Christophe Durand may be a psychopath, but he wasn't stupid enough to try anything with Beth Turner right under the ADA's nose.

"Hang on a minute, Carl." Jamie picked up the office phone and dialed Beth's extension. After a half-dozen rings, it rolled over into the civilian investigator's voicemail. Carefully, she hung the receiver up and put her cell phone back up to her ear, her voice calmer. "She's not here..."

"**Jamie!**" Frustrated, Carl shouted into the phone, louder than he'd intended. He'd just stepped out of the shower when she called and was standing stark-naked in his bedroom, dripping water in a widening pool on the floor. "**Who** are you talking about? What the **hell** is going on?!" He reached around the corner into his bathroom to snag a towel and wrap it around his muscular body, tucking it securely at his waist. In a quieter voice, he added, "Talk to me."

Peeking around the corner of her cubicle, Jamie stared up at Christophe Durand's broad back, just a few short feet away as he stood talking to Ben Talbot. "I can't right now, Carl. I have to get out of here before he sees me." The panic was back in her voice again. "Can I- can I come over tonight?"

"You pretty much **have** to now, Jamie." A note of amusement crept into the detective's voice. "After a call like this, you've got some explaining to do."

Disconnecting the call, Davis tossed the phone onto the bed and headed back into the bathroom. Pulling the towel off his midsection, he rubbed at his short hair, staring into the mirror. "Could your life get any crazier"" he asked his reflection.

With a rueful shake of his head, the detective began dressing. He had a lot of things on his 'to do' list and wanted them out of the way before his guest arrived that evening. His curiosity was certainly piqued by Jamie's mysterious call - but he was also looking forward just to seeing her again more than he cared to admit.

"Thank you for arranging that meeting with Miss Turner, Ben." Christophe Durand sat rigidly upright in the straight chair opposite the ADA's desk. The Crucis leader did not believe in the slouching, informal posture adopted by most young people these days. He eyed the young man lounging behind his desk and mentally shook his head. Disgraceful.

Gathering his thoughts, he continued. "A lovely young woman, albeit under a good bit of stress right now. I hope you are doing **everything** in your power to accommodate her." Durand leaned forward in his chair to emphasize the point. Not for a moment did he believe that Talbot was handling Beth Turner appropriately, but that was not a topic he had the time to tackle right now beyond a mild chastisement. "I think you would do well to treat her with kid gloves, son. She's very...fragile...right now and the last thing you need is to have her complaining about her treatment from the ADA who was involved in the, ah, situation that led to her boyfriend's near death."

Ben opened his mouth to respond to what he felt was unfair criticism, but Durand waved him off.

"I apologize; I was out of line with that comment. Please know I have only your best interests at heart. I do believe she will try to arrange for me to see Mr. St. John as well. Now, what about Carl Davis? You were checking on that for me..."

"I'm sorry, Christophe. He's still on leave. I tried to reach him, but he won't even answer my calls right now."

The CHOIR CEO frowned. "A subordinate who refuses your calls? Even if he **is** on leave, is that kind of behavior condoned here, Ben?" His tone conveyed his disapproval.

Talbot flushed. _Damn you, Carl. _ "No, of course not. But while he's on leave, my options are limited. This isn't the private sector, Christophe. Although," he added, "I'm not sure it would be allowed even there."

Durand snorted derisively. "I will have to introduce you to my world, Ben. In it, I am king." He caught himself. Ben was not yet **part** of that world, although he certainly had plans for the young man. It wouldn't do to reveal too much right now, though. "I mean," he amended, "I would like to think that I am, but you are right. What I'd** like** to do and what I'm **allowed** to do are two different things."

He quickly added, "You have to forgive me, Ben. I'm older than you and I come from a more 'old school' approach to the employer/employee relationship. My HR head is working with me, but sometimes I think even she secretly throws up her hands."

Ben smiled, but said nothing. Inwardly, he was still seething at the earlier comments, but it wouldn't do to make an enemy of this obviously well-connected, powerful man. Edward would have his head if he did. Besides, he owed the man. _Stay cool._

Christophe shook his head ruefully. "I blame it on my start in the seminary - that wasn't exactly a democratic society."

Ben was intrigued in spite of himself. "You mentioned that at lunch. Edward didn't know?" He had found that curious since the two were such old friends.

"I don't usually bring it up. People often look at me and treat me differently once they know it - and I don't like to use it as a crutch to rationalize my behavior. I have to admit, however, that it probably left a lasting impact on me. Perhaps more than I know."

"Just so long as it doesn't cause you to do something where I have to bring you up on charges," Ben quipped.

There was an edge to his humor that Durand caught immediately. Perhaps he had misjudged the ADA. There might be a spine underneath that well-cut suit after all. Yes, Mr. Talbot might yet make a good addition to the Crucis effort...

Song: Michael Bublé - You And I

Beth let herself silently into the penthouse. Why she bothered to be quiet, she had no idea. It wasn't like she stood a snowball's chance in hell of sneaking up on a vampire.

The immortal in question lay stretched out full-length on the leather couch, his head propped up on one hand as he studied the book in front of him, engrossed. Michael Bublé sang softly in the background. She eased the door shut behind her, wincing at the sharp click the latch made.

Tiptoeing in, she caught sight of her lover. Clad in faded jeans and a v-necked dark blue t-shirt, a shadow of beard on a face framed by waves of thick, dark hair, Beth thought that Mick looked more relaxed, more... at peace... than she had ever seen him. As she watched, his nostrils flared slightly and a slow smile appeared on his face. Without taking his eyes off the page, he said, "I like your new perfume. What's it called?"

Beth's lips curved into an answering smile as she walked toward him. "Euphoria."

This got the vampire's attention. Removing the toothpick he had been chewing on, Mick stuck it into the pages as a makeshift bookmark before springing effortlessly to his feet. He strolled over to meet her, taking her in his arms and nuzzling her hair. "Appropriate," he breathed.

Beth shivered. Just his breath on her hair, his deep voice murmuring in her ear, was enough to send a thrill down her spine and tie her stomach in knots. And the tuft of dark chest hair that showed in the 'v' of his t-shirt - she couldn't take her eyes off that bit of hair...

_**I know, I know, it was cruel to end the partial chapter here. What can I say, I'm mean! For the**____**complete**____**Chapter 2, Juxtaposition, of Book 2 of the Moonlight trilogy, along with associated pictures and music that the FF system is not able to accommodate, go to:**_

capeandsaber (.com) ?sid=43&chapter=5

_**Note that this is not a live link due to the need to insert ( ) Remove the ( ) and copy/paste this in your URL line to obtain the link. For those of you Moonlight fans from other countries, capeandsaber has translation capabilities for 58 different languages**_

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_**North, Brat, treezecarr, margroks, and CASilver2**_


	5. Chapter 3: Duets

**As with our other chapters, this is a****partial****posting only, due to chapter length. There is much more to read and the****complete****chapter can be viewed at capeandsaber (.com) with embedded music. Membership is free and is required to access the always-open chat room or leave a review. Reviews and comments are****greatly****appreciated, either here or at capeandsaber.**** We'd love to know what you think – good or bad.**

**Enjoy.**

**Chapter 3 **

**Duets**

Beth slowly traced her finger up and down Mick's torso, unconsciously following the line of the incision from his surgery - a line that had disappeared everywhere but in her mind. Her head was pillowed on Mick's broad shoulder, their naked bodies entwined as they basked in the afterglow of heated intercourse. The couple's first sex after a prolonged period of abstinence had been...

"Intense. That was intense," she said quietly.

Mick stiffened. Had he been too aggressive? He'd warred with himself all during their..._mating. It felt like mating_. That feeling of claiming a mate was one he didn't particularly welcome. Surely a by-product of being a vampire, those instincts threatened to overwhelm him at any moment when he had sex with Beth. Somehow, he'd managed to keep himself in check - he'd thought - even as he lost himself in the taste and scent and feel of the woman in his arms.

"Too intense?" he asked hesitantly, worry apparent in his voice.

The young woman immediately understood the question's genesis and raised her head to look her vampire lover in the eye. "Mick, it was fine. **More** than fine. It was **perfect**," Beth said with emphasis. "Stop worrying, you aren't going to hurt me."

"I could."

"No. You **couldn't**. I mean, I know that theoretically you could, but you'd never let yourself. **I**don't worry about that - and you shouldn't either."

_**One**__ of us needs to. _Mick didn't put this thought into words. Instead, he kissed the top of her head and allowed his hand to drift down and come to rest on her rounded hip. It **had **been intense lovemaking - but why not? It had been three long, difficult weeks since they'd had sex, going back to the night before he took the ill-fated trip with Carl Davis to San Diego and out into the desert.

The past week at the penthouse had been the hardest. It had been bad enough at Temecula, but there, at least, they were rarely alone and not sleeping together. At home, however, being in such close proximity, alone together, had become agonizing to him - and, he suspected, to Beth as well. Even though each had been careful not to have any prolonged contact, it seemed like they were constantly bumping into each other.

Mick had found himself making excuses **not** to be together, afraid that he would lose his self-control. _Lose my mind is more like it. _Maybe now, things could get back to normal - or whatever passed for normal in his crazy life.

Not wanting to darken the mood, he tried to inject a lighter tone. "I'd say mind-blowing."

"What?" Beth asked drowsily. She was still moving her hand over him, craving that touch, but the repetitive motion, together with the relaxation that inevitably followed strenuous sex, was making her sleepy.

"Mind-blowing. Sex with you. You said intense, I say mind-blowing." He hugged her to him, the hand on her hip sliding down to caress her buttocks.

"Mmmm. Semantics."

Her fingertips traced that invisible line down between his pectorals, over his flat abdomen, following the fine hairs, and then pausing at his navel, as if trying to decide which direction to take. He'd been sliced open from hip to hip from the combination of bullets and scalpel. Left or right? Without thinking, her hand started back up.

Reaching over with his free hand to grab the wandering fingers, Mick brought them to his lips. Gently, he sucked on her forefinger, drawing it into his mouth and wringing a moan from its owner. His grip on her rear tightened as she moved against him. He could feel himself stirring again, growing hard against her leg.

The vampire inhaled her scent. Beth smelled like sunshine, as always, something that was a wonderment to him. Her underlying fragrance to him now, however, was lust and sex. Pulling her finger back out of his mouth, he rested it on his lips as he spoke.

"Want to take this upstairs?"

"Definitely," she breathed against his shoulder, her normally pale face flushed with excitement.

Mick picked Beth up - and then almost dropped her as the sound system abruptly blared out from hidden speakers. Vamping suddenly, he cast around for whatever threat had caused the cacophony of noise, his eyes blue-white and wild. His hold on the young woman in his arms constricted involuntarily until she gasped in pain.

"Mick, you're hur-" Beth stopped herself before she uttered the word. He would be devastated if she disclosed that he had caused her pain. Instead, she bellowed, "Put me down! I can't hear myself think!"

Her voice brought Mick back from the desert, where the unexpected noise had transported him. He shook his head as he eased her to the ground, getting himself back under control with difficulty. What the hell was **wrong **with him?

"You must have leaned on the remote when you picked me up," Beth sputtered as she fished the offending electronic wand out of the couch cushion where it had become wedged during their frantic coupling. Wheeling, she pointed it at the stereo to turn the sound back down.

Dropping the remote back down on the couch, the young woman touched Mick's arm, guessing correctly that the shaken vampire needed grounding. He was here, with her. Safe. "Now we can at least **hear **each other again!" When he looked at her with bewildered eyes, she realized he needed more. More normalcy to bring him back to the present. Casually, as if nothing had happened, she added, "I think I'll get another drink before we go upstairs. Want one?"

"Um, scotch would be good. Thank you." Mick's voice was thick and he cleared his throat with effort. He could feel his fangs retract, the sensation, as always, making his gums itch. "I could have gotten those for us."

"You made me dinner," she pointed out, observing the signs of Mick coming back to her. His eyes were now their normal blue-tinted hazel and his fangs had disappeared. "Let me make myself useful," she teased, turning away from him to busy her with pouring fresh drinks - and hide her worried look.

She didn't fool him for an instant.

"Beth."

"Hmm?" Her tongue was caught between her teeth as she poured precise amounts of the expensive scotch into the heavy crystal glasses.

"Look at me."

With a sigh, she put down the bottle and pivoted, resting one hip against the black granite counter on the island. Crossing her arms across her bare breasts, she frowned up at the vampire. "What is it? I'd like to get this show on the road, stud. I'm freezing!" Her lighthearted tone belied her concern as she studied him.

Mick reached out and pulled her close, folding his arms around her. "I know it doesn't seem like it sometimes, but I'm fine," he asserted, resting his chin on the top of her head.

"Mmmm-hmm," Beth responded noncommittally, burying her face in his chest and rubbing her cheek against the soft hair there._ I could stand like this forever..._

"I **am**," he insisted. "I'm just worried about you."

Beth raised her face to look at him. "**Me**?! I'm not the one always going around almost being killed!"

"No, but you're with me." Gently, he touched one finger to her upper arm where bruises were already forming on her pale skin - bruises **he'd** given her when he'd grasped her unthinkingly. How could he be with this woman if he truly loved her, when he was a **danger **to her? "Like I said, I'm...worried."

Shaking his hand off impatiently, Beth glared up at him. "This? Oh, please. This was an accident, Mick. I had worse than this from that creep I dated in college for a couple of weeks. I'm sure you saw that. Knowing you, I'll bet you were watching!"

"Actually-" He looked away evasively.

"Don't say it!" Beth stared, her mouth open. "**You **ran the guy off?!"

"Well, first I beat him up..."

She sighed theatrically. "And here I thought I was such a strong modern woman that I was able to get rid of him."

"I'm sure that had something to do with it." The corner of Mick's mouth twitched in amusement.

It hadn't been funny at the time.

When the actual abuse occurred, he hadn't been around - the only reason the creep was even still alive - but Mick had seen the bruises on Beth's wrists after a date with the bastard on one of his periodic checks of the young woman. He'd quickly put two and two together and started shadowing her even more closely, ready to step in if necessary.

The following weekend, the two had fought heatedly. The young man..._what was his name? Greg?_had shoved Beth and she'd angrily ordered him not to come near her again.

Stalking off angrily, hands thrust in the pockets of his coat, he had seemed to give up. At least that's what Beth had thought as she'd congratulated herself on getting rid of him. Mick's acute vampire hearing, however, had picked up the asshole's angry muttering, and knew Greg was planning on coming back. Coming back and doing much worse than grab Beth's arms.

He couldn't allow that to happen.

Mick had wanted to kill him - slowly, painfully drain the life from him. Someone that spineless and cowardly, who would abuse someone smaller and weaker, someone as precious as Beth... He didn't deserve to live. But he hadn't wanted any taint of his vampirism on her life - at least, no more than already existed from her exposure to Coraline and he - so he'd settled for beating the young man to within an inch of his life, permanently rearranging his handsome features into something less than flattering.

As the punk lay on the ground, choking and gagging on his own blood, Mick had grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him up until their noses were almost touching.

"If you **ever**," he gritted through clenched teeth, keeping the vampire inside in check through sheer force of will, "come near Beth Turner again, I'll kill you. Do you understand me?" He shook the man's limp body.

"Ye- Yes!"

Blood had splattered on Mick's face as it sprayed from the man's shattered mouth. He'd ignored it.

"If you come near her any **time**, any **where -**for the rest of your life - you're a dead man. Got it?" His voice was a low, threatening growl and his eyes had glowed as the terrified man had nodded vigorously.

"Good." The vampire had droped his victim abruptly, the man's head bouncing off the pavement with a dull thud as he'd stepped over him and stalked off without a backward glance. He'd maintained a close watch on Beth for weeks afterward, but her assailant was never seen or heard from again.

_Am I any better?_

As he ran his hand lightly up and down her arm over the forming bruises, he couldn't be sure.

* * *

"What's happened, Jamie?"

Carl Davis carefully handed the steaming yellow mug to his guest. Placing his own cup on the coffee table, he sat next to her on the sofa, situating himself so that he could look right into her face as they spoke. Carl could almost hear his mother's voice admonishing him for not changing into more presentable attire. But, hey… _It's late, Mama, and I don't think straight around this woman._

"Feeling better now?" he inquired, his deep voice deceptively gentle.

Jamie Sommers looked up at him with troubled eyes. "I don't know if I'd say…better…but the coffee helps, thank you."

Carl stared at her for a few moments, trying to assess her demeanor and mood, his trained mind forming the questions he wanted to ask. Perhaps now, he could finally get the answers he so desperately needed. "Okay, start over. What happened today?"

**To find out what happened…and read the rest of Chapter 3, Duets of Book 2 in the Moonlight Novelization Trilogy, along with accessing associated music that the FF system is not able to accommodate, go to:**

capeandsaber (.com) ?sid=43&chapter=6

_**Note that this is not a live link due to the need to insert ( ) Remove the ( ) and copy/paste this in your URL line to obtain the link. For those of you Moonlight fans from other countries, capeandsaber has translation capabilities for 58 different languages**_

_**Stop by the always-open chat room and get acquainted! As always, reviews are very much appreciated, either here or at capeandsaber. See you soon!**_

_**North, Brat, treezecarr, margroks, and CASilver2**_


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